The Collected Works of Oscar Wilde: 250+ Titles in One Edition. Оскар Уайльд

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СКАЧАТЬ Cecily … [Moving to her] … if my name was Algy, couldn’t you love me?

      Cecily. [Rising.] I might respect you, Ernest, I might admire your character, but I fear that I should not be able to give you my undivided attention.

      Algernon. Ahem! Cecily! [Picking up hat.] Your Rector here is, I suppose, thoroughly experienced in the practice of all the rites and ceremonials of the Church?

      Cecily. Oh, yes. Dr. Chasuble is a most learned man. He has never written a single book, so you can imagine how much he knows.

      Algernon. I must see him at once on a most important christening — I mean on most important business.

      Cecily. Oh!

      Algernon. I shan’t be away more than half an hour.

      Cecily. Considering that we have been engaged since February the 14th, and that I only met you to-day for the first time, I think it is rather hard that you should leave me for so long a period as half an hour. Couldn’t you make it twenty minutes?

      Algernon. I’ll be back in no time.

      [Kisses her and rushes down the garden.]

      Cecily. What an impetuous boy he is! I like his hair so much. I must enter his proposal in my diary.

      [Enter Merriman.]

      Merriman. A Miss Fairfax has just called to see Mr. Worthing. On very important business, Miss Fairfax states.

      Cecily. Isn’t Mr. Worthing in his library?

      Merriman. Mr. Worthing went over in the direction of the Rectory some time ago.

      Cecily. Pray ask the lady to come out here; Mr. Worthing is sure to be back soon. And you can bring tea.

      Merriman. Yes, Miss. [Goes out.]

      Cecily. Miss Fairfax! I suppose one of the many good elderly women who are associated with Uncle Jack in some of his philanthropic work in London. I don’t quite like women who are interested in philanthropic work. I think it is so forward of them.

      [Enter Merriman.]

      Merriman. Miss Fairfax.

      [Enter Gwendolen.]

      [Exit Merriman.]

      Cecily. [Advancing to meet her.] Pray let me introduce myself to you. My name is Cecily Cardew.

      Gwendolen. Cecily Cardew? [Moving to her and shaking hands.] What a very sweet name! Something tells me that we are going to be great friends. I like you already more than I can say. My first impressions of people are never wrong.

      Cecily. How nice of you to like me so much after we have known each other such a comparatively short time. Pray sit down.

      Gwendolen. [Still standing up.] I may call you Cecily, may I not?

      Cecily. With pleasure!

      Gwendolen. And you will always call me Gwendolen, won’t you?

      Cecily. If you wish.

      Gwendolen. Then that is all quite settled, is it not?

      Cecily. I hope so. [A pause. They both sit down together.]

      Gwendolen. Perhaps this might be a favourable opportunity for my mentioning who I am. My father is Lord Bracknell. You have never heard of papa, I suppose?

      Cecily. I don’t think so.

      Gwendolen. Outside the family circle, papa, I am glad to say, is entirely unknown. I think that is quite as it should be. The home seems to me to be the proper sphere for the man. And certainly once a man begins to neglect his domestic duties he becomes painfully effeminate, does he not? And I don’t like that. It makes men so very attractive. Cecily, mamma, whose views on education are remarkably strict, has brought me up to be extremely shortsighted; it is part of her system; so do you mind my looking at you through my glasses?

      Cecily. Oh! not at all, Gwendolen. I am very fond of being looked at.

      Gwendolen. [After examining Cecily carefully through a lorgnette.] You are here on a short visit, I suppose.

      Cecily. Oh no! I live here.

      Gwendolen. [Severely.] Really? Your mother, no doubt, or some female relative of advanced years, resides here also?

      Cecily. Oh no! I have no mother, nor, in fact, any relations.

      Gwendolen. Indeed?

      Cecily. My dear guardian, with the assistance of Miss Prism, has the arduous task of looking after me.

      Gwendolen. Your guardian?

      Cecily. Yes, I am Mr. Worthing’s ward.

      Gwendolen. Oh! It is strange he never mentioned to me that he had a ward. How secretive of him! He grows more interesting hourly. I am not sure, however, that the news inspires me with feelings of unmixed delight. [Rising and going to her.] I am very fond of you, Cecily; I have liked you ever since I met you! But I am bound to state that now that I know that you are Mr. Worthing’s ward, I cannot help expressing a wish you were — well, just a little older than you seem to be — and not quite so very alluring in appearance. In fact, if I may speak candidly —

      Cecily. Pray do! I think that whenever one has anything unpleasant to say, one should always be quite candid.

      Gwendolen. Well, to speak with perfect candour, Cecily, I wish that you were fully forty-two, and more than usually plain for your age. Ernest has a strong upright nature. He is the very soul of truth and honour. Disloyalty would be as impossible to him as deception. But even men of the noblest possible moral character are extremely susceptible to the influence of the physical charms of others. Modern, no less than Ancient History, supplies us with many most painful examples of what I refer to. If it were not so, indeed, History would be quite unreadable.

      Cecily. I beg your pardon, Gwendolen, did you say Ernest?

      Gwendolen. Yes.

      Cecily. Oh, but it is not Mr. Ernest Worthing who is my guardian. It is his brother — his elder brother.

      Gwendolen. [Sitting down again.] Ernest never mentioned to me that he had a brother.

      Cecily. I am sorry to say they have not been on good terms for a long time.

      Gwendolen. Ah! that accounts for it. And now that I think of it I have never heard any man mention his brother. The subject seems distasteful to most men. Cecily, you have lifted a load from my mind. I was growing almost anxious. It would have been terrible if any cloud had come across a friendship like ours, would it not? Of course you are quite, quite sure that it is not Mr. Ernest Worthing who is your guardian?

      Cecily. Quite sure. [A pause.] In fact, I am going to be his.

      Gwendolen. [Inquiringly.] I beg your pardon?

      Cecily. [Rather СКАЧАТЬ